| “ | I think I know what measures to take to keep myself safe, little girl. | ” |
–Astrid to Virvatuli | ||
Astrid Abrahamsson is a Swedish cryomantic witch who splits her time between the UK and her homeland to study dragons. She yields power over snow and ice in addition to typical magic.
Personality[]
Astrid, is a determined and strong-willed individual. Despite being shunned by most of her family for having magical abilities, she wanted to excel in her classes and become successful. Her parents refused to support her freakish abilities, so she had to carve out a niche for herself on her own. Astrid is friendly enough, but somewhat lacking in social skills and often speaks her mind without considering the implications of her words. She has a particularly soft spot for animals. With her familial issues, Astrid is not keen on losing control and therefore will not indulge in such things that impact her measure of control on her life. Astrid is passionate - when she likes something, she often throws her whole self behind it. When she dislikes something, she vehemently hates things. She is a girl of black and whites, with no grey areas. Her sense of humour is black as tar, with cutting wit making people incapable of taking the things she says lightly. Astrid can be somewhat reckless, though only by her own decision in a manner which she can control.
Relationships[]
Anastasia Karkaroff - closest friend
Casimir Karkaroff - respected associate
Rhys Greyback - cursebreaker associate
Virvatuli Taikalainen - druid acquaintance
Aidan Ó Cuinn - druid associate
Kalju Hiiglane - partner
History[]
Astrid is the youngest child of two famed cellists, Joakim and Maria Abrahammson. Like her siblings, Astrid was raised to follow in their footsteps, learning the string instrument from the age in which she could hold a bow. Her childhood, beyond attending concerts, practicing cello and keeping to herself, was boring enough. The family was too busy touring Sweden and the world to have much time for extra-personal relations. The children had tutors when on tour, and attended private school. Though lonely, Astrid was never extremely unhappy. That is, until strange things started happening to her when she was around seven years old.
The first odd occurrence was when she was practicing roller blading on the street. It was a bit bumpy, and Astrid tripped. She fell forwards and heard a definite snap in her left wrist. Terrified of what her parents would say, about how it would take weeks to heal and she wouldn't be able to play cello (after all, they had warned her not to roller blade as it would certainly cause injury) Astrid kept the pain muted. She favoured her right hand throughout the evening, and went to bed and ignored the pain. However, in the morning it was as if nothing had happened. Astrid's wrist was absent of pain, and there was no apparent lasting trauma. Confused, but delighted that she wouldn't get in trouble, Astrid didn't mention anything to anyone in her family. Instead, she continued practising the cello.
Moments like her seemingly magical healing were few and far between, and were easily ignored by Astrid. Astrid grew more and more reckless, even insisting on camping in early winter despite fears of frostbite. She returned successfully, but was berated when her mother discovered black spots on the tips of her right fingers. It appeared frostbite had started to take hold, but something had kept it at bay and Astrid maintained complete use of her hand. She would have gotten in heaps of trouble if it had impeded her ability to play the cello.
Everything changed in the summer before Astrid's 12th birthday. A stranger knocked on the door, and Astrid's father opened it to a strangely dressed, tall and thin woman. She introduced herself as a representative of Durmstrang Institute. She was a witch, and so was Astrid. Joakim scoffed. A witch? There was no such thing. Things in their lives made sense, and having a magical daughter simply did not. Astrid was curious and wanted to know more - did that explain why things happened to her the way they did? Astrid's father bade the woman good day and shut her out, but not before Astrid had heard enough. She sprinted out the back door and caught up with the woman as she was walking away. The woman confirmed things for her - she was indeed a witch. And she had a spot at Durmstrang if she wanted it.
For her whole life, Astrid had lived in the shadows of her siblings and parents. She thought she would never amount to anything more than a cellist. While she was gifted with the instrument, she didn't want her life to revolve around it. Astrid accepted her place at Durmstrang, without her parents consent or approval. She didn't care - this was her opportunity to be successful.
Astrid's time at Durmstrang was insightful and interesting. Still a somewhat lonely girl, she was regarded by her fellow students as a bit weird, but always with a sharp comeback. She discovered a love for magical creatures, instantly becoming fascinated by dragons. The Swedish Shortsnout in particular - she felt a sort of kinship with the breed though she had only read about them. She worked as hard on her studies, as she had practiced cello as a youth. She was allowed back in her home each summer against her parents wishes - they simply wanted nothing to do with a witch. They didn't speak much to her, but forced her to continue her cello training.
However, Astrid wasn't the only rebel in the Abrahamsson family. Her elder sister Johanne decided to quit cello at the age of 18 to pursue a career in tech. Her parents had been so focused on their music they hadn't noticed their middle child learning to code in the dark hours of the night. Johanne and Astrid were the odd ones of the family, and developed a kinship that Magnus, the eldest, simply couldn't penetrate. After university, Johanne moved more centrally into Stockholm. Astrid graduated Durmstrang and split her time between Stockholm with her sister and Snowdonia in Wales, where she had been granted an internship to work at the Snowdonia dragon reserve. Astrid pursued a career in general magizoology, though her heart always remained with dragons.
Astrid was not very involved in much of what happened in London. She was more focused on the life she was carving out for herself. However, when the dragons escaped and attacked Hogsmeade, Astrid was one of those who responded. She wanted to make sure the ministry didn't hurt any of the creatures. Astrid had no love for sports, so she was supremely unconcerned with the explosions at a Quidditch match. She did consider it quite a shame that someone as famous as Hermione Granger had died. She thought it was quite curious that so many explosions were happening. More so than usual, at least.
First Instance of Cryomancy[]
Fat flakes of pure white snow floated down from the sky, swirling and twirling in dizzying patterns. Astrid held a mittened hand out, watching as the crystals landed on the wool. She peered closely at the fluffy white droplets, discerning the difference in each figure. Astrid had always been fascinated with snow, and living in the outskirts of Stockholm meant she had ample opportunity to play in it.
With a shake of her hand, Astrid tottered off deeper into the forest behind her house. Last night had been the first big snowfall of the season, and she wasn’t going to miss out on the freshly fallen chance to play pretend. She was not unlike the rest of the children her age, crooning about castles and princesses and evil dragons and making something out of nothing. But the youngest Abrahamsson child, at just five years old (nearly six! Astrid would often qualify), was sheltered more than most.
Since last year, Astrid’s parents had her practicing the cello day and night. Astrid had quickly learned not to complain, because after an hour of cello practice she was allowed to play outside. She had no use for video games or dolls - she could create adventure just using her own mind.
With a peal of laughter, Astrid jumped into a huge snow drift, covering herself completely in snow. She tunneled through the snow, poking her head out the other side. Her nose felt very much like it might fall off! She rubbed it with a warm hand, then considered the pristine snow before her. This was perfect snowman making snow.
Astrid gathered up a ball of snow in her hand, trying to form the base of a snowman. She found it difficult to maneuver with her fingers all jumbled up in her mittens. Her mother had warned her to take good care of her hands, because they were essential for playing the cello. Well, Astrid thought to herself, she would just take the mittens off for a moment. Just to make her snowman. He would be the grandest snowman she had ever made! And then she would put her mittens back on, and no one would be any the wiser.
In one grand sweep, Astrid discarded those thoughtfully crafted mittens, and shoved her hands into the snow. But instead of feeling cold, the most peculiar thing had happened.
Astrid’s hands started to feel… funny. At such a young age, she couldn’t find the word to really express it. But looking back on the memory in many years time, Astrid knew that the feeling was raw magic pulsing through her palms. There was not a hint of redness anywhere on her hands. And a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind, urging her to look within herself to discover the power. Though confused, Astrid did as the voice said, discovering a well filled with snowfall, ice and delight. Humming with pleasure, Astrid cupped her hands. A ball of ice and snow formed in an instant, a faint blue light radiating from her hands as she did so.
Gasping at what she had done, Astrid dropped her hands. The ball didn’t fall, or even disappear. It seemed that with the slightest hint of fear, it grew. It pulsed with that same blue light, inviting her to explore this newfound power. Astrid chewed on her lip, peering closely at the little ball. It rotated on some sort of axis, as if waiting for some sort of instruction. She glanced down at her hands, and shrieked. A faint blue light was emanating from them, wisps of something that looked like steam curling off her finger tips. But other than that, her hands didn’t look any different. Astrid flipped her hands over, mouth agape, inspecting the sudden change. This had never happened before!
The ball still hovered in midair, though Astrid was no longer afraid of it. She held her hands up, palms out. Lowering her mind into that peculiar well within her, she added more snow and ice to the ball, until it was twice the size of her head. She thrust her hands further out and the ball soared ten metres away, landing with a thud on the frozen ground. But it did not fall apart on impact. It remained perched, looking perfectly like the bottom half of a snowman.
Could she… could she do it again? Astrid glanced down at her hands. The well within her was still brimming with unused power. She cupped her hands and found herself humming once more. This time, the ball of snow and ice grew more quickly. Astrid stopped abruptly, and so did the growth of the ball. She dropped her hands, but the ball did not fall. She stood up, and the ball rose with her. She twirled her hand around, and the ball spun around its axis more quickly. “Cool,” murmured the little girl to herself. She thrusted her hand out and the ball joined the first to form a snowman.
Giggling, Astrid poked eyes and a crooked smile into the snowman. She wondered what else she could do with this exciting control over frozen things. Astrid spun around in the snow, palms up, thick sheets of snow falling onto her pink cheeks. She twisted her arms in a random configuration, humming and imagining a lovely, fat snowman. He sprung into existence, that faint blue glow emanating from him.
Again and again, Astrid sprung snowmen from the ground. Her shouts of laughter could be heard from her home, and her father came to investigate. Astrid quickly shoved her mittens on as she heard someone approaching, not yet ready to share her excitement. It was like a delicious secret, and Astrid wanted to keep it to herself for a bit longer. The blue light was snuffed out, though the snowmen remained. Her magic was hidden from sight, but still thrummed within her.
Astrid’s father demanded she come inside, afraid that her fingers would get frostbitten and she wouldn’t be able to play cello. When Astrid refused, his voice grew more forceful and angry. She would follow orders, he said. Astrid pulled off a mitten, wiggling her fingers to show that they were perfectly fine. “I’ve been playing with my mittens off and I’m fine, papa!” she argued, trying her best to stifle the faint blue light. Thankfully, her father didn’t notice.
Astrid’s refusal to listen, her father’s shouting at her, it all welled up within her. “Fine! Get frostbite. Try to play cello with half fingers,” spat her father furiously. He stormed off, and angry tears streaked down Astrid’s cheeks. She discarded her mittens once more and with a ferocious growl, she threw the magic that had been bubbling inside her towards her fathers retreating form.
A trail of massive, razor sharp icicles erupted from the ground, but did not come close to her father. She felt the well of power within her drain completely, and she swayed on the spot. Her father didn’t even look back at her. Astrid slumped on the ground, fighting to keep her eyes open. She laid back, her eyes fluttering shut. She forced them open, if only to don her mittens once more. With the power drained, she felt the cold deep within her bones.
Astrid finally sat up after what felt like hours in the snow. Shivering and wet, she retreated to her home like a dog with her tail between her legs. Her father inspected her hands once she was able to warm them by the first, to find them miraculously unhurt. Astrid knew that magical well within her had protected her from the dangers of the cold.
She wanted more than anything to experiment more. But there was a concert coming up, and the whole family would play. It would be Astrid’s debut. So she focused instead on her cello, letting the music fill the magical well within her.